


Angeli Amoris/To Make the Angels Weep

by JohnConstantine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Mating, Enochian, F/M, angel mating tho man wow, sex wow sex, why didn't i know this that's kinda cool i guess, wow i can make tags whatever i want?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-18
Updated: 2013-09-18
Packaged: 2017-12-27 00:07:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/971897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnConstantine/pseuds/JohnConstantine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>February is a strange time for Castiel when he's overcome by the urge to mate, and unfortunately Meg becomes the center of his attention</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Angeli Amoris

If Castiel had a favorite time, it would probably be now. Mostly because as the pain ebbed from his abdomen and groin, it quickly warmed to a heated pleasure.

Relaxed on his stomach with the motel room sheets barely covering his lower back, he sighed as he felt the usually tense muscles of his vessel relax under his skin.

He also loved this time because he could sleep. When he was drained, sleeping brought a slow pleasure as a veil of unconsciousness covered him like a warm blanket. Though he never dreamed during this time, he had often wondered what it was like. He’d visited human dreams before but never had any of his own. It was another puzzling thing to add to the things he didn’t understand about humans.

He drew a sharp breath as he felt the demon resting atop him squirm, almost jerking her fingers that she had delicately twined with his.

“You keep moving,” he muttered, almost surprised at how much more raspy his voice was than usual. Meg had that effect.

“Wouldn’t have to if you’d stop your fucking sighing,” it was how their nights together usually went. A long night of mating and blasphemy to the both of them tired almost to exhaustion. Castiel sometimes wondered how she was always able to drain him, but it seemed to be clearer now that he figured his power still hadn’t fully come back since his break from Purgatory, as well as his siege to save her from Crowley’s grasp in Hell.

But the times when he felt rejuvenated and powerful were always after their nights together. And even thought sex proved little to ease his mind, it did help with the hole he felt deep in his vessel’s heart.

“Knock it off!” he was used to her swatting him now, and although he was too tired to heal the bright red marks she left on his skin, he felt secure as she adjusted herself on his back and ran her arms down to meet his hands. ‘You’re like a fucking five year old.”

He ignored her and buried his nose into the bend of his inner elbow, closing his eyes and relaxing again.       

“You worry too much on comfort,” he muttered as her blonde hair spilled over his face.

“And you’re trying to sleep so you can heal up for Frick and Frack,” she growled in his ear. “Don’t think I don’t know what you do after we split.”

“Is that a problem?”

“It is when you make me smell like a fucking flower,” he understood her frustration on that end. It was only a few weeks ago when his instincts turned primal and the only words that he could hear were the old enochian “ _hoath_ “, which of course confused him and ate at him raw until he discovered the cause for his discomfort.

He had been on edge for several weeks, mostly to do with his own occasional horniness and the fact that he felt like a rabid dog. Dean was no help in solving his issue, only suggesting he go and watch a DVD (which, to Castiel’s surprise, starred his late brother Gabriel, and was no help to the situation but only to make Cas more frustrated and confused), and when he consulted his sister,Anael, an angel of sex and passion, she only went on to discuss human needs for mating and companionship. And so when it came time to meet with Meg, a thrill and drive shot through him and he soon discovered the cause of his discomfort and frustration.

Which lead to him referring to their sex time as “mating”. Meg of course hated the term, but she enjoyed that he would often cut his time away from Sam and Dean to please her, which she assumed made everything a little bit better.

If she wasn’t fucking a giant bird man with the libido of a fifteen year old with his first porno mag.

And so when they finished, they resulted to sleeping with each other for a while, mostly to calm Cas’s fuck rage (which it pleased Meg that the whole angel ‘ _pon farr_ ’ was almost over), and to give Meg a place to hide out for a few more hours before she went back out to kick Crowley a new one.

“Meg,” Castiel muttered as he stretched his legs.

“What?”

“Are you tired?” No, no way he was fucking asking her for another go. But then again…

“You I think look like I’m tired?”

“I can’t see you.”

She huffed, blowing a blonde curl in front of her face before sitting up on his ass. “Think, dumbass. Yeah, I could go another round. If you’re asking nice-”

She never finished her sentence as Castiel flew out from under her and shoved her hard on the backside of the bed, his lips hungrily devouring hers and his blue eyes drinking in her image of surprise.

She didn’t remember the last time he surprised her like this, but she eagerly took what he gave her and moaned as he moved like a serpent over her body.

For a giant pigeon, he moved like a cheetah.

Gasping loud as he slid himself into her, no warning, no slight of hand, and played her tongue with his like it was a toy.

Sometimes she liked it when he took charge, mostly because he tired faster than she did and he was easy to manipulate.

As they rocked together, the sound of streetlights popping and the angry screams of a drunk in the next room signaled that his grace cut the power again, an odd side effect of the drive his grace sent him into.

“Damn,” Meg breathed as he forced her hard, biting and nibbling her neck with sharp, human teeth.

“Hush,” his order was quiet, a voice he shot threw her mind as he rammed against her. She wondered where the sudden energy came from, and when the dark, translucent outlines of black feathers formed from his back, she understood.

 _Hoath_.

The wings were probably brighter than she ever saw on him awake, mostly he only let them showed when he was either asleep or about to destroy one of Crowley’s compounds. The wings shown bright black with shimmers of purple and green, and if Meg didn’t know they were in the colors of mating (or if she wasn’t a demon), she would have thought them beautiful.

When he let her climaxed she screamed with a mix of pain and pleasure, and reveled at how the angel leaned over her, his eyes glowing and his wings spread like an eagle ready to take flight.

“Holy fuck, Clarence.”

He stared at her for a few moments, the glow of his eyes turning their motel room shades of blue and white, and resumed to kissing her, much softer than before, his hands running up her arms to run his fingers through hers.

“ _In hoath_ ,” he muttered, the enochian on his tongue like fire to her ears. “ _Io-Iad_.”

She wasn’t paying attention to him, she was still overwhelmed by the fierceness and haste he had just displayed. “Damn, if only Deano could see you now.”

“Why would he want to watch us mate?” he asked, the glow in his eyes slowly dimming. “I would prefer it if he didn’t.”

“Cas, you’re lucky you’re pretty, because sometimes you’re the dumbest bitch,” she replied with an amused twinkle. “Though I wouldn’t doubt it if you’ve already shown him the goods.”

He blinked. “I save my  _hoath_  for you.”

“What, is ‘hoath’ angel gibberish for ‘penis’”

He tilted his head down at her, siding from her stomach to sit on his caves. “It’s angel for love.”

“Dear Satan take me now, I’m going to puke.”

“I would prefer if we didn’t refer to my brothers in bed.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“That makes me uncomfortable too.”

With a tired sigh, she pushed herself up on her tired thighs and forced Cas down hard on the mattress, his back bouncing slightly. “Just shut the fuck up,” she muttered as she crawled over his chest and nestled under his chin. “I feel like I have a feather up my ass.”

He replied by wrapping an arm around her, and sending his other one behind his head to find her hand under the pillow.

And they laid there the night through, occasionally waking to deliver soft kisses to each other’s lips, and attempting to fix the lights they destroyed the night before.


	2. To Make the Angels Weep

 The whole damn thing was getting old.

Mostly because Cas went into fits if they didn’t mate, and Meg was losing patience in dealing with him. Sam and Dean wanted noting to do with the angel, and since he’d almost destroyed the bat-cave in a angry sex-rage, they found out where she’d been hiding the past week and dumped him with her.

The bright side of the whole thing was that he begged her to fuck him. Not bothering with his usual seduction techniques (which didn’t bother Meg, he sucked at it), and ignoring the frustrated growls he uttered in her wake, she decided to see how long she could play him.  
They were sitting out in the empty house she’d chosen as her current HQ, Meg with her feet rested comfortably in the dusty red couch the previous tenants left behind, flipping though a  _People_  she snagged from the corner gas station, and watched him as he shook on the floor in front of her, His coat and suit wrapped in a neat circle around his legs.

His fault was the fact that he was a stickler for consensual sex, and although Meg was always up for surprise sex, he would usually end up poofing off, leaving her hanging and annoyed with no where to go.

But she liked seeing him like this; tense, edgy, and trying to keep himself from fucking the closest thing to him.

“If you keep shaking like that you’ll probably get a hernia,” she mockingly warned, flipping another page that went on about Kardashiwhatsits and whatever the fuck they were doing these days.

“Stop,” Castiel’s body rocked slowly back and forth, and if it wasn’t such a nuisance she’d laugh her ass of at the sight of him.

“So the angel begs for his demon now? Can’t be too cool in the eyes of your wing band.”

He was ignoring her, and she was ignoring him back. The entire game wasn’t as fun as she thought.

“None of them understand this…” he chattered. “Neither do I but…”

“I’m sure Dean could use a little ass fucking from you, since you’ve been paying so much attention to me.”

“Why would I ask Dean to participate in  _Hoath_? Why is everyone saying that?”

With a sign, Meg tossed her magazine in his lap, and heaved herself off the couch, dust flying. “Well, If you’re just going to sit there like a fucking two year old, I have shit to do.”

As she made her way towards the door, the angel’s sudden movement started her as he slammed her against it, pinning her down with his hands.

“Meg…please.”

She laughed in his face, ignoring how his expression slid from desperation to slight anger. “Say it again.”

“Please.”

“Again.”

“Meg… _please.”_

It was enough for her, she supposed, and she leaned toward his mouth and teased him with her tongue. Not taking, he pressed harder against her until they made contact, his teeth fighting for her lips as she playfully resisted.

“Knock it off,” he ordered, watching as Meg pulled from him with a smirk on her face.

“I hate it when you take charge like that, Clarence,” she mused. “Makes me all dewy for you.”

He growled as his animal took over, kissing her hard, his abdomen twitching when her cold fingers found their way under his un-tucked shirt.

His hands lifted her thighs around him and he braced her butt on his leg, his body screaming for her as she managed to unbutton his shirt and slide it off of him.

 _Stop taking so long_ , his mind growled at her, and as if she was offended by the unspoken words she deliberately took her time with his belt.

“Wall sex is an effort, you ass,” she muttered under his lips. “Would have been easier if you poofed us to a hotel.”  
When he finally managed to rip her purple top from her shoulders he pressed up harder against her, the wall now the only thing keeping her above him and sweet scent of cinnamon tinged with sulphur made his mind swirl with ungodly lust.

Running her hands over his face, she smiled as she felt his underside rub against her, his dick hard and solid against her legs.

“Let me down,” she ordered, and with a surprised huff he dropped her on her knees. “Back on the wall.”

She liked it when he obeyed, it made her feel like she was the queen of the world, and her angel was the dirty trench-coated handmaiden.

Sliding her hands down his lean stomach and dragging her nails along the waistband of his vessel’s suitpant, she undid them slowly so she could watch with satisfaction as his cock rose against her.

Wallsex oddly reminded her of that fist kiss they shared in Crowley’s compound, and though no sex transpired, she did remember the sudden shock he gave her when he slammed her against the wall for a harder, more passionate kiss than she thought the angel was capable off. Kissing had always been her rule of dominance over Sam and Dean, but the way Cas took it and…gave it back made her writhe in excitement.

Though she did still wonder what he meant by “I learned that from the pizza man.”

Shoving the image away she stroked the hard organ and glanced up at him with a deadly smirk. Castiel wasn’t as into blowjobs as she liked, but when he was in angel-sex overdrive, he took what she gave him.      

She simply placed her lips on his cock before she felt him push towards her, leaning his upper back and elbows against the wall.

“Sit down.”

“You’re not going to…?”

“Not when I have to crouch you moron.”

Sliding down against the wall to her level, he sat spread-legged as he watched her snake down from his face back down to his genitals. Graciously he slid farther down on his back as a courtesy, and closing his eyes he waited for her to begin sucking.

What he didn’t expect was a sharp bite, followed by her tasting and sucking the organ hard until a welt started to form. Pain shot so quickly to pleasure and back again that Castiel started to rock up against her.

When she let him finished she spit the fluids onto his chest, clawing her way back up his chest. He muttered in disappointment as fell into their usual routine, hard kisses and teasing rubs. Unfortunately, he let her be in charge, which usually meant she would be doing things her way.

Which concluded to her breaking their kiss and sitting up on her haunches.

“Having fun yet?”

“This isn’t for fun,” he reminded her, straightening up against the wall to face her. Her vessel had an amused smirk, and he realized he liked how her brown hair spilled over her neck and shoulders, and…

“Where are you going?” It was the first time she had up and left during their sessions, infact he was so surprised by her sudden movement he had to take a moment to realize it wasn’t because she was dissatisfied with him.

“Get on the floor,” she ordered. “Stomach first.”

—

She seemed to have disappeared off forever. The sex has been so quick and small he felt disappointed she had left. And the  _Hoath_  was still clawing at him, but after what they did he felt a simmer of self control.

So he laid there for about fifteen minutes on the cold wooden floor of the empty home, his face resting on his elbow and his eyes closed.

And that was when he felt the cold drip of lubricant between his buttocks. He couldn’t help but notice it had an odor of oranges.

“Forgot where I hid it,” her voice was somewhat soothing, and it irked Castiel that he found something so sinful to be so calming and homely.

Fucking  _Hoath._

He made a surprised grunt as she straddled his back, the rubber of the toy she loved so just slightly grazing his back.

“It’s my turn to make the angels weep,” she whispered in his ear and he felt her slide off of him, and almost scream as the dido slid inside of him.

She moved with such harsh movements that Castiel almost doubted it would have felt any better without the lube. He felt himself rise to her rhythm and his nails drag against the wood flooring. She prided herself in the way she could make the angel cry out his father’s name (which almost made it less awkward than it was), and she rammed him hard. Scrunching his hair and digging her nails into his scalp, she braced herself as she jabbed the right spot to make the angel twitch hard under her.

Such the pleasure that was dominance.

When every they had sex with another, they usually would let the third partner have a safeword to bring them to a climax. But when Meg and Cas bedded, they usually tired out together, sharing the dominance and subordinate clauses between the two of them.

But today felt different, and since Meg made it clear she was the leader today, she calmly waited for a sign that she’d broken him.

But all he did was go along for the ride, which made it all the more fun to ram him harder and harder until she was sure she’d fuck the mojo out of him.

And it wasn’t until he stopped responding to her thrust that she slid the toy out from him and crawled over his head to lay on the floor across from him.

“Guess now you know what Dean feels like when we’re done with him.”  
“Why…do you constantly refer to Dean when we mate?”

“Because you keep fucking calling it mating.”

She was lying on her underside, propping her upper body on her elbows and looking down at him. “If I knew all it took was a dildo up your ass to calm you the fuck down, I would have done it sooner.”

He lifted his head to make eye contact with her, his face flushed, and to Meg’s delight, his hair so ruffled it looked as thought he would never be able to straighten it again. “It will be over soon.”

“Hmm?”

“ _Hoath_.  I was advised it only lasts a few weeks.”

“Well, lucky me,” Meg mumbled as she rested her cheek on her arm, running an acrylic nail on his face. “I was having fun.”

“But you said I was-“

“Just take the complement, Clarence.”

He would have probably left then if she hadn’t made him so sore, and if he wasn’t feeling so lazy. Rolling his head from her face he put his forehead on the hard floor, not at all surprised to feel her crawl on his back and nestle the base of his skull, wrapping his fingers in his.

“You’re lucky you’re so sinful,” she muttered as pressed a kiss on his neck. “I can’t deal with fucking good boys.”

He almost expected to be offended, but he felt too tired, And felt too at home in his demon’s arms.  


End file.
